Bad Daddy
by Seasidegrl
Summary: Short Piece on Angel, Spike and Dru


"Kiss him."

"Kiss daddy."

"Kiss him for your Dark Princess?"

In his hundred plus years of Vampire existence Spike was the recipient of many an odd request;

"Spare me…take my children instead!"

"Could you help me find my eyeball?"

"Would you be willing to pledge your immortal soul?"

"For the Love of all that is holy, can you please put some pants on?"

Really, the list was endless. And, when it came to the twisting waters of depravity that spilled and sloshed their way through the black inky recesses of his Beloved's imagination? A new depth of strange could be counted on. So this request barely registered as even a bit peculiar.

"If you want my sweet," Spike said, leaning into his prey.

Angel, Angelus to those who knew him before his current incarnation of a soggy soul drenched Vampire was strung up like a Martyr. Each of his thick, pale, muscular arms were drawn up tight and tied to a dark mahogany bed post. He was the very picture of a Christian awaiting the Lion. And Spike had no problem delivering the Lion.

Angelus, a demon so fierce he had once been cursed as a plague upon Europe. Now he was nothing more than a broken toy of a deranged girl. A girl, now a fierce demon herself, he had created through tortured and the sharing with her his own black soul. He was sitting his legs stretch out on the ground in front of him, useless like legs belonging to an unfilled scarecrow. But, his torso remained taught and bound to the bed. His shirt has been ripped from him and now his pale torso oozed with sores. Sores created, with loving care, by his dark princess. The girl really knew her way around holy water. She now declared them to look like tears. Spike supposed they did at that. Puss filed tears slipping down pale flesh leaving pink burning flesh trails in their wake.

Spike slunk down straddling Angel's useless legs and then he kissed the devil himself.

His dark princess clapped her hands in joy. Spike turned towards her, his cheek pressed against Angel's face as he watched his Sire dance. Her hair tumbling in raven waves as her frail body, wrapped in a gossamer gown of white cotton, swayed to the tune only she could hear. She was his dark princess, he was her dark prince and he would love her until the end of all of time. No one, especially not her precious Sire Angelus, would ever break them apart. Spike would see to that.

Since the mob in Prague had made Drusilla weak Spike's need to protect and serve her grew stronger second by second. The sacrifice of his Grandsire was a mere drop in the vast depth of their love. He would kill him now, with bare hands and fangs, if it meant he could see his beloved restored to her full strength. But, he would have to be patient He needed this ritual to go in exacting measures. He would not let the blood, and the anger, and the desire for his dark princess to compromise anything to make her well again. He would not let the hatred for his Grandsire compromise her health. It was a tough internal battle, to not kill this half demon he despised so much, but one he was determined to win.

Turning his face back towards Angel's, Spike pressed his now fanged mouth against Angel's lips. Puncturing the thin skin found there Spike watched as a trickle of ruby red blood ran down Angel's bottom lip and onto his chin. Spike's tongue sought the sweet nectar. He licked the ambrosia that was, even in Angel's current state, a Master Vampire's blood. His tongue made a final swipe across Angel's lips and then he pushed forward once more tearing new wounds, drinking more nectar.

A growl reverberated from Angel's to his mouth and back again. A Sire's call tucked into an echo trapped between their mouths.

Spike pulled away from the feast he had made of Angel's blood. Golden eyes flecked with burning orange strands stared back at him. The demon was awake.

"Oh la oh someone's going to fight. Might it be the King and all his merry men?"

Spike heard but did not turn towards his Sire's sing song ramblings. She had always loved when Angelus and he fought. It was a touching combination of a young maiden's pride over men fighting for her hand and a demon's desire to see someone get their throat ripped to bits.

"No love, we ain't gonna fight. Are we?" Spike asked still mesmerized by the demon before him. The power the creature had over him running like a hot current under his dead skin.

Angel said nothing. His eyes stayed locked on Spike's. A low growl bubbling from his gut.

Spike sprang up and stared down at the broken creature in front of him kicking it for good measure. No one, especially not this thing before him, would ever own him again. He was his own man. William the Bloody, the Big Bad, Spike. A name feared almost as must as Angelus. And, by the time he was through with this world, his name would be the one that made monsters and humans quake with fear.

"Princess?" he asked his features smoothing back to human, his gaze drifting from the thing in front of him to his dark beauty. "I am thinking a new dress would be in order. After all, we can't have you coming back to your glory in just a bit of rags. Now can we?"

"Oh yes please!" Drusilla exclaimed clapping her hands like a child about to unwrap a large birthday present.

She drifted across the room and they came together. Silently holding each other and swaying to their internal beats.

"Now you be a good daddy and we will bring you a nice surprise," Drusilla cooed at Angel.

"Oh yeah mate, big surprise. Maybe a nice dog collar and leash to tie you down. Wouldn't want our mangy mutt to run away from us now would we?"

The pair laughed as they pulled away just enough to walk arm in arm out of the room.

te your document here...


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